Hawkins' Grove

by Graeme Bourke

  * * *

  Emily Langley heard the front door slam loudly as her husband Robert arrived home; she quickly bustled the children outside. He only ever slammed the front door when he was in a bad mood. She said nothing as he strode into the sitting room with a scowl on his face, throwing his hat and gloves into the chair beside the fireplace. Reaching for the liquor cabinet he grabbed at the whiskey bottle, uncorked it and took a swig straight from the bottle. Then he turned to Emily.

  “Is that old bastard upstairs still alive?”

  Emily just nodded, fearing that he would take his anger out on her. He had done it before, and would probably do it again. Their marriage of the last twelve years had not been a smooth one. At times Robert could be the perfect husband, especially when they had company or were visiting her family. Their marriage had been arranged by the families. “He will give you a home in the style you are accustomed to,” her mother had said. Reluctantly, she had married him and bore him five children, three girls and two boys. The eldest, Jeremy, was eleven-years old. Robert took another drink from the bottle.

  “I have serious plans for this place and the business.” Robert stared at his wife. She was still an attractive woman with her long-black hair and ebony eyes. Recently, he had tired of her, and had sought solace in the arms of women in Hobart, but for some reason his desire to have Emily right now was overwhelming. It was the anger in him. He needed to take it out in some way. What better way than taking his wife to bed? He grabbed her by the hand and led her up the stairs.

  “Robert, the children are outside,” said Emily as she resisted him.

  “Your first duty is to your husband,” said Robert, closing and locking the bedroom door. He began to take his clothes off.

  Emily backed away from him, a look of horror and indignation in her eyes. “It is not right to do it in the middle of the day.”

  “Take your clothes off or I will rip them off you.”

  She began to undress, while Robert stood there naked, his excitement obvious.

  When she finished undressing Robert grabbed a handful of her hair and threw her onto the bed. “I am going to give it to you like you have never had it before.”

  It had been almost six months since the last time and it hurt as he drove himself into her. She wasn’t going to respond to him no matter what. He was like an animal as he plunged into her, rocking the bed so much that she thought it was going to break. He kept going and going. Emily tried to think of other things, like the cake she was going to bake and the fruit that needed picking. But it wasn’t working. She slowly found her body responding to his violent offering. She clung to him tightly and folded her legs firmly around his back as her moans of pleasure became louder and louder.

  As her husband dressed with a conceited smile on his face, Emily buried her face in the pillows with embarrassment. She had never abandoned herself like that before.

  “I’m going to check on the horses,” said Robert as he buttoned his shirt and left the room. Now he felt better, his head was clear and he could think. On passing the painting of Lillian on the wall in the passage, he stopped and took time to study it. The corners of his mouth curled up in a sadistic smile as he stared at the amulet around Lillian’s neck. She had been wearing it when she disappeared. If Lillian was alive, all he had to do was to find the amulet. It would confirm what he felt he already knew.

  As he strode across the yard he saw smoke coming out of the chimney of the cottage where his mother had resided for the last eighteen years. After Lillian had disappeared she had never come back into the house. She had blamed him and his father for everything, and her contempt towards him had never faded. Soon it will all be mine, he thought to himself, and then nothing else will matter. He saw the horses in the corral and counted them, they were all there. That meant Frank was still in the bunk house. He was fast becoming a liability as well as being unreliable. He was drinking far too much and Robert knew that the time was fast approaching when he would have to be rid of Frank O’Connor.

  Matilda Langley watched Robert from the window of the cottage as he walked to the bunk house. She never thought that she could hate her own son as much as she did. He had been the cause of all her pain and suffering. All these years she had prayed for a miracle, but to no avail. Lillian would have run this property and the business properly. Robert on the other hand, was into everything underhand and illegal. He cared nothing for anyone’s feelings, not even his own parents.

  Since her husband had been ill she had been going to the house to be with him as much as possible. She had always hoped that Lillian had somehow survived, and she still clung to that hope, even after all these years. Matilda heard the horses stirring. She looked out the window again and saw Robert and Frank saddling up. She watched them ride away. She preferred to go to the house when Robert wasn’t there.

  Robert’s wife Emily, had been a godsend for her. Besides giving her grandchildren they had become very close. Maybe it was because both of them had suffered at the hands of the contemptuous Robert. Emily had often come to her, distressed, and bearing the scars of Robert’s temper. A blackened eye and a bloody nose were common occurrences.

  Quickly, she made her way across to the house, up the stairs, and into her husband’s bedroom where one of the maids was putting a cold compress on his forehead.

  “He has the fever,” said the maid as she turned to Matilda.

  “I will see to him,” replied Matilda, taking hold of the cold compress. Arthur opened his eyes and looked up at her and smiled.

  “I’m glad you have come back to the house.”

  “It is only for your sake that I do.”

  “Have you forgiven me then?”

  “Yes,” replied Matilda as she leant down and kissed him on the cheek.

  “I was wrong Matilda, and you were right. Robert is a no-good scoundrel. I hope Lillian comes back, for your sake.”

  “Rest now, my dear,” said Matilda as her husband closed his eyes.

  Matilda left the room and met Emily on the stairs on the way down.

  “How is he?” asked Emily.

  “The fever will weaken him further.”

  “Is it worth getting the doctor back?”

  "No, he can’t help him anymore.”

  It was late in the evening when Matilda Langley saw Robert arrive back with Frank O’Connor, they were both laughing. They had obviously been over at Will Johnson’s place at Cockle Creek, drinking rum.

  Later that night, as everyone slept, Robert slipped out of his room and crept along the hallway to his father’s room. Emily had heard him rise but she pretended to be asleep. She was more afraid of her husband than she had ever been before. His anger and impatience with her and the children had become worse.

  As quietly as he could Robert opened the door and then closed it behind him. He crept over to the bed where his father lay sleeping. He picked up one of the pillows. “I’m tired of waiting old man,” said Robert, pressing the pillow firmly over his father’s head. There was no struggle.